


The Science Fiction Brady Bunch Dinner From Hell

by jujubiest, preussisch_blau



Series: Barrison Week 2016 [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Age Difference, Awkward Family Dinners, Barrison Week 2016, M/M, Multiple Perspectives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 21:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5981986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujubiest/pseuds/jujubiest, https://archiveofourown.org/users/preussisch_blau/pseuds/preussisch_blau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harrison Wells brings his daughter Jesse to Earth-1 for the first time, and the Wests have them over for dinner. Things get awkward--well, <i>more</i> awkward--when Iris takes it upon herself to invite Barry's dad without telling him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Science Fiction Brady Bunch Dinner From Hell

**Author's Note:**

> This was started a while ago as the result of a lot of silly musing between myself and preussisch_blau, but never finished, and I decided it would make a really good fill for the Day 2 Prompt: Awkward Situations.
> 
> A few of the circumstances have since been Jossed by canon, so this is officially AU as hell. Also, I've estimated Jesse Wells's age as seventeen, since we know she's in college but not what year, and we know she graduated high school at sixteen.

Harrison can’t stop fidgeting.

He detests people who fidget.

But he’s already packed his bag, double-checked its contents, re-packed his bag, and checked it again. Jesse has threatened to pelt him with rolled-up socks if he popped his head into her room again to check on her progress. He’s not vain enough to allow himself a bout of intense scrutiny in the mirror. He looks the same way he always has.

(Well. Maybe his hair is a little less well-kept, a little gray around the temples compared to the way it looked less than a year ago…but he hasn’t bothered to correct these flaws. Certain people find them familiar and endearing, or so he’s been told.)

So that leaves him sitting on the edge of his bed, brimming with nervous energy, as he waits for Jesse to finish packing for their weekend trip to the Other Earth.

He picks absently at his thumbnail, frowning, and then gives up and opens his bag to check _one more time_ that he has everything.

There’s a knock on his bedroom door. He doesn’t look up.

“One moment,” he says, setting the bag aside and crossing to the door of his en suite bathroom. He pulls open the mirrored cabinet above the sink and frowns at the empty glass jar inside, perplexed.

“Uh, Dad?” Jesse calls from behind him.

“Not now, I can’t find my toothbrush.”

“You already packed it.”

“No, it’s not in the bag, I just checked.” There’s an exasperated sigh and the sound of some rustling.

“Dad.” He turns to see Jesse holding up his toothbrush, safely in its holder, exactly where he put it.

“Thanks. Now I just need to check that I packed my—”

“Dad.”

“What?” It takes a monumental effort not to sound as frazzled as he feels.

“We should have left ten minutes ago.”

So much for all that effort.

“ _Fu_ —er,” he stops, clears his throat. “That’s no good. Okay, let’s go.”

He re-zips his duffel bag and Jesse shoulders her backpack, and they head downstairs together.

A thought strikes Harrison just as they’re about to step out the front door.

“Did you pack pajamas?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“What about an extra set of clothes, just in case?”

“Yep, got ‘em.”

“Feminine hygiene supplies?”

“Dad! God. Yes. Please stop.”

“Did you—”

“If you ask me if I packed enough socks, an umbrella, or literally _any other thing,_ I’m going upstairs and locking myself in my room until you get back.”

He knows she’s joking, that she’s far too excited about the prospect of visiting another universe to really contemplate staying behind, but Harrison stops pestering her with questions all the same. He’s just…excited as well, but also anxious, and that combination makes him prone to worrywarting. He takes a calming breath and starts out to the car, Jesse bouncing ahead of him as he turns to lock the front door.

Another thought strikes him as he slides into the driver’s seat, and he can’t stop himself from blurting it out.

“Wait, do you have a jacket, I don’t know what the weather will be like once we get there.”

Jesse looks at him like he’s lost his mind and is working on hers.

“DAD. Oh my god, yes. I have my jacket. I have an extra set of house keys. I have my wallet, not that most of what’s in there will do me any good where we’re going. I have absolutely everything I could possibly need and a few extras just in case. Let’s just _go_ already!”

He smiles apologetically.

“Sorry. I’m just—” _Nervous. Excited. Terrified. Glad to have you home. Anxious for you to meet Barry. Still afraid that if I turn around for one second you’ll be gone when I turn back._

Her exasperated expression softens into understanding.

“I know,” she says, as though she heard all the things he didn’t vocalize. That’s his Jesse: always so quick.

“Okay,” he huffs, trying to school himself back into some sort of equilibrium. “Let’s go then.” He cranks the car and puts it into reverse, backing carefully out of their driveway and turning right, onto the street, toward the main road that will take them to the highway, and eventually S.T.A.R. Labs.

After they closed the rest of the rifts, Harrison and the members of the Other Earth’s S.T.A.R. Labs team had decided to keep just one open and stable, and under heavy security. He, Jay, and Cisco had worked together to establish safety protocols on both sides of the breach. Now it can only be accessed on either world by a handful of people: himself, Jay, Cisco, and Barry. Caitlin politely declined access, declaring that one world was quite enough for her and pointing out that if _she_ could walk through, so too could her evil meta-twin. The security is all based on biochemical data, after all.

The Harrison Wells of their Earth is dead. Jay Garrick, as far as they have been able to tell—and Harrison has great faith in Felicity Smoak’s ability to find information—doesn’t exist there. And the Cisco Ramon and Barry Allen of Harrison’s world are as brilliant as their counterparts, but more or less harmless. They also have no affiliation with S.T.A.R. Labs or reason to suspect there is anything interesting in its basement.

This isn’t the first time Harrison has made the trip back to the Other Earth; he’s been going once or twice a month since they stopped Zoom and sealed all the other rifts. But it’s the first time since then he’s planned to stay multiple days, the first time he’s brought Jesse with him, and the first time he can’t kid himself that it’s anything other than a social visit.

They’re having dinner with Barry and his family, and staying for a week.

Jesse’s so jazzed she’s practically humming in her seat. Harrison would almost rather face an angry meta-human.

The whole way to S.T.A.R. Labs, his brain is working double-time, ramping up his increasingly ludicrous worries, playing them over and over like a list of greatest hits on a loop.

_What if dinner is a disaster? What if Henry Allen hates me? What if it’s painfully awkward and nobody talks at all? What if someone starts choking and no one else knows the Heimlich? I haven’t had to perform the Heimlich in decades!_

He’s well aware that he’s being ridiculous, but that doesn’t help shut his brain up. By the time they park, enter the lab, and get through the security protocols, his thoughts are a complete jumbled wreck.

When he’s finally standing in front of the portal, he thinks: _What if Barry isn’t even there? What if he’s decided this whole ridiculously long-distance relationship is a mistake, and he’s waiting to tell me as soon as I step through?_

He almost turns around and goes back home right there. He could come back tomorrow, for a normal, work-related visit. Nothing has to change.

But Jesse is at his elbow, grasping his arm excitedly and nearly jumping up and down at the prospect before them. He doesn’t want to disappoint her, and if that means enduring a few hours of humiliating discomfort, well…so be it.

He gets a good grip on her hand, hoists his duffel bag, and they step through.

There’s no way to describe how it feels to step from one universe into the next. There’s no bright white light, no sudden darkness, no spinning vortex of color and noise. It’s just a step through a door. You go in, you come out, and although you know something profound just happened you don’t feel profoundly different than you did a moment ago.

Except that this time Harrison does, because the first thing he sees on the other side is Barry.

He’s waiting in front of the portal, shifting from foot to foot nervously and biting his lip to pieces in an uncanny mirror of Harrison’s own anxiety. He can practically see the thoughts written in the worry lines across Barry’s forehead: _They’re late, what if something went wrong? What if Harry changed his mind? What if Jesse changed_ her _mind, decided she didn’t want to meet me after all? What if she already hates me?_

But then his eyes light on Harrison, and all the apprehension is wiped from his face in favor of a smile that just _glows_. Harrison spares a moment to look back at Jesse, making certain she’s made it through alright and with her bag in tow, and then he’s dropping everything and crossing the space in quick strides, on the brink of running.

Barry _does_ run, just fast enough that his edges blur a little, and crashes into Harrison so hard that it should hurt. It doesn’t, not with Barry in his arms. He wraps Barry up in a close hug, face buried in the crook of his neck, and he just holds him there for a moment, shamelessly breathing him in, re-memorizing him.

Twice a month is not enough, he thinks. Two weeks between visits is far too much.

He finally pulls back after a few minutes, but not very far. He keeps Barry just inside arms’ length, refusing to let go of him completely, just drinking in the sight of him. They’re not like this usually, not until later, when no one is around to see…but after the nerves and the stress of the day, Harrison doesn’t have the energy to remain stoic until they can steal a moment alone.

The sound of his daughter clearing her throat bids him to tear his eyes away eventually, and he turns to find Jesse looking between them with her arms crossed over her chest, grinning slightly.

“Wow, Dad. You told me he was young, but _wow_. You look older in the suit,” she directs this last part at Barry, who flushes and tries, unsuccessfully, to withhold a smile.

“Uhhh, thanks? Nice to see you again,” he says awkwardly, clearly casting about for a change of subject. “We’d better get you guys unpacked and everything, so you can rest or freshen up or whatever before dinner. C’mon.”

He turns and leads the way out of the Pipeline. Harrison follows, arching an eyebrow at his daughter and giving her a look that says clearly _reign in the teasing on the age thing, please._

The sweet, angelic smile she gives him in return is less than reassuring.

* * *

It doesn’t take Jesse long to get her things unpacked, and then she’s immediately at a loss as to what to do with herself for several hours. She doesn’t feel remotely tired, but wonders if maybe she ought to try to sleep for a bit anyway, just in case it all hits her at once and she passes out cold in her plate at dinner.

Ah, dinner. She’s both dreading and looking forward to it. She’s excited to get a chance to talk with Barry, Iris, and Joe, three people her father speaks about fairly often (though with varying tones ranging from barely-veiled dislike to affection). But she’s also a little chagrined at the thought of how _weird_ it’s going to be, sitting there with her dad and his twenty-six-year-old superhero boyfriend, said boyfriend’s two unrelated dads, and his foster sister (and ex-crush, apparently).

Trying to connect those dots makes her head hurt. Still…she hasn’t seen her dad smile like that in years, not since her mom died. She didn’t even know he could _do_ that anymore, that whole-face, the kind you couldn’t see without returning it with one of your own. Not that he _never_ smiles…he’s not nearly the grump that most people think him to be, at least not at home with her. But that absolutely, positively love-struck happiness is something she hasn’t seen since she was a little kid, and never expected to see again.

She thought there might be some indignation on behalf of her mother. She keeps waiting to feel territorial, even jealous…but it never happens. If anything, she thinks her mother would have laughed. She was the kindest, smartest person Jesse had ever known; she wouldn’t have wanted Harrison to be lonely forever, and she would have known better than to think anyone else could ever replace her.

A knock at the door draws her attention. She opens it to see a smiling Iris.

“Hey,” Iris says. “I just came to see if you needed anything.” Jesse returns her smile.

“No, I think I’m all set. Just wondering what to do with myself until dinner.”

“Well,” Iris says, considering. “I think your dad and Barry are out of commission for the next couple of hours, but I was going to meet some friends of mine for coffee. You’ve met Caitlin and Cisco, right?”

“Yes! They were with Barry and my dad when they…well…you know.”

“When they brought you home,” Iris says gently. “I know. My friend Linda will be there, too.”

“Sounds like fun,” Jesse says, grabbing her jacket from the bed. She follows Iris downstairs and out the door to her car, idly wondering where everyone else is. Remembering what Iris said about her dad and Barry, though, maybe it’s best she doesn’t know the specifics.

“Oh, I should probably warn you,” says Iris as they’re pulling out of the driveway. “Linda’s harmless, but she looks like someone you may know from your earth.”

“Uh-oh,” Jesse says. “Who?”

“Doctor Light?” Iris grimaces apologetically, but Jesse’s eyes light up.

“Doctor Light?! I love her!” At Iris’s surprised look, she rushes to explain.

“Okay, _don’t_ mention this to my dad. He’s not a big fan of most of the meta-humans on our Earth, whether they’re heroes or villains, which I guess is understandable considering recent events. But I’ve been fascinated ever since they started showing up. I followed every piece of news about the Flash—our Flash—I could get my hands on. I also kept tabs on all the news stories about Doctor Light, and I know she’s a criminal, but…well, she’s a really _cool_ one. And it’s nice to see the girl get the superpowers once in a while, you know?” Jesse stops for a breath, and is relieved when Iris just laughs.

“Now _that_ I can understand,” she says. “Do you know how useful super speed would be to a reporter? Oh, or invisibility. Or maybe the ability to know when people are lying.”

“I’d take the speed,” Jesse says decisively. “Imagine all the books you could read in a single day if you could read as fast as Barry runs!”

“Hey, don’t let Barry fool you. His reading speed may be impressive, but his comprehension leaves something to be desired.”

Jesse narrows her eyes.

“I bet he could improve on that, though.” And then she’s launching into one of her theories on developing Speed Force abilities, her previous worries about the impending awkwardness forgotten.

* * *

Harrison is fidgeting again, picking at his fingernail beds under the table. He can’t help it. This is the most awkward he has felt in his life, and he was a _very_ gawky teenager and almost worse in his twenties, so that’s really saying something.

Joe, seated at the head of the table, keeps side-eyeing his daughter and then glancing at Barry. Harrison can see the question writ plainly across his face: just how close in age _are_ Jesse and Barry? It’s all Harrison can do to keep from blurting that she’s only seventeen, for crying out loud, she finished high school early, they’re almost ten years apart.

He doubts that will really ease Joe’s mind where his relationship with Barry is concerned.

Then, at the other end of the table, there’s Henry Allen. Harrison has pointedly made eye contact with him once, when they were introduced, and not again since, but he can feel the man’s eyes boring into him.

Meanwhile Iris is sitting across from him, her smile growing rather fixed as she tries in vain to lighten the tense atmosphere and keep a conversation going. Bless that girl, she has always been kinder to him than he’s done anything in particular to deserve, but this is a little over-the-top even for her. And her cheerful, slightly pointed tone of voice as she tries to draw each of them into the conversation in turn is doing nothing to settle his already-frayed nerves.

Granted, Jesse seems to be playing along fairly well. Bless her, too. She and Iris spent the afternoon bonding, apparently, and now it’s only her continual chatter with Iris that’s keeping the room from being dead silent as all the men stare at each other with suspicion, concern, mortification, and—for his part—mute and mounting horror.

He doesn’t _do_ awkward situations…at least not when he’s not the one making it awkward. He’s well aware that he can be brusque and abrupt. He knows how to kill a mood or clear a room. But he always _knows_ when he’s doing it. It’s almost always intentional, or at least in a situation where he doesn’t have time to care. But right now? He would give _anything_ to dispel the tension around this dinner table, but he has no tools at his disposal. The charm he uses on the media back home just reminds the people here of Eobard Thawne. The natural prickly edges of his personality will hardly help in this situation, authentic though they may be. And the easy comfort he usually finds with Barry cannot help him, because that’s a big part of what is putting a third of the present company so on edge in the first place.

And Barry, damn him, _is not helping._ He entered a state of shock approximately five minutes after his father showed up, and doesn’t appear to be emerging any time soon.

Harrison suppresses a sigh. He’s not sure he can take much more of this.

* * *

_Oh god oh god oh god._

It’s been on a loop in Barry’s head ever since he opened the front door to find his dad smiling on the other side.

He’d moved to let him inside automatically and accepted his hug, looking over his shoulder at Joe with wild eyes and mouthing _WHO CALLED MY DAD?!_

But Joe had looked just as baffled as Barry, shrugging and shaking his head vigorously. No, Joe would not have called him. He’d have encouraged Barry to call him, to tell him about Harrison sooner rather than later. But he’d never have done _this._ This was cruel. This was unusual. This was…was…an ambush.

When Barry had pulled back from his father’s hug he’d left Joe to show him into the dining room while Barry made a beeline for the kitchen and Iris.

Who stonewalled him before he even had a chance to open his mouth.

“Yes,” she said. “I called him. But you should’ve. Barry, when are you going to learn that keeping the people you love out of the loop on important things _always_ ends in tears?”

“I was waiting for the right moment!” He hissed. But that wasn’t working either.

“There’s no such thing as the right moment. There’s the moment something happens and the moment you tell the people who deserve to know. All the time in between is just an excuse.”

So. Here they are. And Barry is dying by inches where he sits, trying not to look anywhere but at his plate and absurdly hyper-conscious of his father’s gaze resting on him, then Harrison. He eyeballs the space between them, wondering if maybe it’s not quite enough. It could be wider.

“So…” Henry says during a lull in Iris and Jesse’s conversation, and the tension in the room doubles immediately, if that’s even possible. “Barry, Iris tells me you’re dating someone new. Is that—” he trails off, and Barry forces himself to look up and meet his father’s eyes. Henry is looking helplessly between Harrison and Jesse, and Barry almost chokes on air. He looks frantically at Iris, miming his panic with his eyebrows. _Did you not tell him Harrison is the person I’m dating?!_

Iris stares serenely back at him, as if to say, _let’s see you run from this one, Barry._

He drags his eyes back to his dad, who’s still looking back and forth between Jesse and Harrison with mounting concern. Before Barry can say anything, Henry decides.

“Uh, Jesse, was it? I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.”

There’s a slightly bitter laugh from the head of the table.

“I wish,” Joe says, and Barry feels Harrison stiffen beside him. He’s not sure if that’s because of Joe’s disapproval or because Jesse is _seventeen,_ for crying out loud…not that Joe knows that, Harrison said his daughter was in college, but _still_.

Henry’s eyebrows shoot up, and his gaze slides, unwillingly, to Harrison.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I just…Iris didn’t give me a name, she just said you were dating someone new and that I should meet him…but the cell reception in the mountains isn’t the best, she could have said ‘them,’ and…”

He trails off again, red-faced and flustered, and Barry’s right there with him, wishing he could just disappear through the floor. He wonders how much of an uproar it would cause if he just grabbed Harrison and made a run for it.

Iris hides a helpless chuckle behind her hand, and Barry shoots her a dirty look. Jesse is looking back and forth between Iris, Barry, his dad, and Harrison with wide eyes and a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“Um, Mr. Allen? I’m seventeen. I think I’m a little young for your son.”

The table goes utterly silent at this pronouncement, except for an odd wheezing noise coming from the head of the table. Barry looks over to see that Joe is gasping with laughter, steadily turning deep purple with his failed efforts at suppressing it.

“Oh god,” he manages. “I’m sorry…I can’t do this.”

And he’s up and gone, heading for the kitchen, still shaking with laughter.

Iris folds her napkin and places it carefully beside her plate.

“I’ll just go…make sure he’s alright.” She says, and then makes her own escape.

Leaving Barry at the table with his dad, his boyfriend, and his boyfriend’s daughter.

Perfect.

“I’m sorry,” Henry ventures, looking chagrined. “I didn’t mean to break up the party.” At that, Harrison makes a choked sound somewhere between disbelief and disdain that has Barry fighting the urge to kick him under the table.

“It’s no problem, dad,” Barry says, forcing himself to meet his father’s eyes. “I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

Henry smiles, the specific smile he always gave Barry when he was trying to reassure him, let him know it would be okay.

“Son, it’s fine. I understand. And hey…you’re an adult. You can make your own decisions. As long as you’re happy.”

Barry smiles and dares a glance at Harrison. His eyes are fixed on Barry’s face, eyes anxious as though he’s uncertain of Barry’s answer. But how could he be?

“Yeah, dad,” he says, without looking away. “I’m happy.”

“Good. Then I have no problems.”

* * *

Iris eventually manages to coax Joe back to the table, and dinner resumes with most of the awkwardness dispelled.

That is, until Jesse puts down her fork and smiles innocently at Barry.

“So,” she says sweetly. “I guess I should call you Dad now?”

Harrison chokes on his water. Henry and Joe, who had both been swallowing their food, begin coughing uncontrollably. Barry seems to have swallowed a very large lump of air too quickly.

Iris just gives Jesse a look of stark admiration. Barry makes a note to himself to keep them far away from each other from now on. Like maybe one universe away isn’t enough.

Once he manages to get hold of himself, however, Harrison appears unwilling to be outdone by his daughter.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jesse,” he says composedly. “I’m Dad. Barry can be Mom.”

Everyone chokes on everything. Again.

Barry clears his throat and wipes his streaming eyes, shooting a glare at Harrison that doesn’t quite hold due to the glowing warmth spreading all through him at that absolutely nonsensical statement. Because on the one hand, come on, he is _not_ being called “Mom” by anyone, ever. But on the other hand…this thing between them is still so _new._ This is the first time Harrison’s brought Jesse with him, the first time he’s come himself for something other than work. Barry hasn’t let himself worry too much about where this is headed, or if it’s headed anywhere. Not that he doesn’t care, just that he’s not willing to hang any kind of hopes on this lasting forever, or very long at all. Forever is a long time, and the world is a big place…even before you factor in the fact that you’re talking about two worlds instead of one.

So it’s…nice, to think Barry might be that important to him. To think he might merit a permanent enough place in Harrison’s life for it to matter what Jesse calls him.

Across the table, Jesse looks between her dad and Barry with bemusement. Her dad is giving her a look that says they will have a Talk later about that little remark. But Barry…he’s busy looking at her dad. Practically _glowing_ at him, actually. It’s weirding her out a little. He does realize that they were both joking…right?

She can’t hold in a sigh of relief when Iris stands up and announces she’ll be back with dessert. Jesse likes Iris, and Barry, and being on another Earth is exciting. But this dinner has been exhausting beyond belief, and she’s honestly counting the minutes until this science fiction Brady Bunch nightmare is over.

* * *

Henry gives his son a goodbye hug and gamely shakes hands with his new…boyfriend. Which seems an odd term for someone who looks like he might be close to Henry’s own age.

But he’s not going to think too closely about that, firmly shuts his mouth against asking how old Harrison is, _exactly._ As long as Barry is happy, Henry isn’t overly concerned with Harrison’s age. If Harrison _is_ older than him, he’d rather not know for sure.

And Barry does look happy, happier than Henry has seen him look in the last year and a half. So while Joe may be in the kitchen downing a cup of coffee that’s half whiskey just to get through the rest of Harrison’s visit, Henry decides it’s not his place to judge. He likes Joe, has a great deal of respect for the man, but he’s always thought Joe treated Barry and Iris like they were eternal children. He looks at them and still sees two twelve-year-olds in need of constant protection. Henry, on the other hand, has not had the luxury of being overprotective and ever-present in his son’s life. He was forced to take a step back and trust others with Barry’s well-being, and Barry himself with his own life and decisions. So he likes to think he’s got a slightly more objective, if heartbreakingly distant, view on his son than Joe, who raised him.

That’s part of why Henry left Central City, if he’s honest with himself. Barry was so excited at the thought of the two of them being father and son the way they used to be, and the thought of trying that terrified Henry. Things can never go back to the way they used to be. He hasn’t been a father in the real, daily, boots-on-the-ground sense in over a decade. Barry’s spent more of his life visiting Henry behind bars than being parented by him, and Henry doesn’t know how to be the father of a twenty-six-year-old.

He slips out the door with a last wave goodbye, zipping his jacket against the chill of the air and heading to where his car is parked on the street. He can’t help thinking about Barry and Harrison as he leaves Central City behind, worries he won’t give voice to niggling at the back of his mind.

Because of course there’s a part of him that _is_ worried, not that Barry doesn’t know what he’s doing or that he’s being taken advantage of, but that this will end poorly and break his son’s heart yet again. After all, Harrison and Barry are at very different places in their lives. Barry’s young, just starting out. Yes, he’s seen and done things most people can only dream of, but there’s still a mindset there of newness, of beginnings. Harrison, on the other hand, has been a husband and a father. He obviously adores Barry, but will he understand him? Will they be able to sympathize with the differences in one another once that initial glow wears off?

Henry doesn’t know, and he doesn’t know what he can do about it either way. But he hopes so. Barry has been through so much in his young life, lost so many people. He deserves something good. He deserves something that will last.


End file.
